Battle's End
by Still Waters
Summary: A day in the life


_Clearly, I'm not meeting my goal of updating something every week, but I would rather post something that I'm mostly happy with than just post something so I can say I posted. I am working on...everything...and should hopefully have something ready to post soon. I appreciated the patience of those waiting. Meanwhile, I had this little idea for a one-shot. It's not related to any of my other stories, but I hope you'll read and enjoy. And review. _

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It was finally quiet. Everyone had gone and the silence was broken only by the sounds of the monitors beeping away. It had been nice to have the others there, supporting and encouraging her, letting her know that they would be there to offer whatever help she might need. Now, though, it was nice to have them gone and to be free of the energy that always surrounded the Avengers.

Completely exhausted, she shifted slightly in an attempt to get comfortable. With no one watching, she allowed herself to wince and a hiss of pain escaped through her clenched teeth.

She hurt all over more than anywhere else.

When she woke that morning, she had no idea that she would be ending the day in a hospital bed.

She had actually slept in. It was after 7 am when she rolled out of bed, much later than the normal start of her day. She had headed to the gym for her usual work out, followed by a shower and breakfast in the tower common room, then off to work.

The normalcy of the day had been shot to hell when one of the terrorist groups on their watch list had decided to stage a series of attacks on several targets around the city.

Financial centers.

Corporate headquarters.

Tourist destinations.

It seemed that first responders had barely reached one sight before another attack was reported at another sight. There was no pattern and defenders were stretched thin, working the areas already hit and trying to anticipate and prevent further activity.

The group leader had taken to the airwaves, taunting the authorities over their inability to do anything to stop his plans.

In a coordinated effort, the police, military, SHIELD, the Avengers, and a number of private security agencies had managed to finally close in on him and take him down. His final message, though, was for his soldiers to never give up the fight.

It was an 'all hands on deck' day as all able bodies and a few not quite so able bodies worked to mop up the extremists, intent on causing a maximum amount of destruction and chaos.

Her main concern, of course, had been her teammates, and regular checks had kept her informed of the whereabouts of each individual, so she wasn't entirely surprised when he came around the corner. His eyes took her in, examining her from head to toe. She nodded to him to let him know that she was uninjured and he looked slightly relieved, though the look of concern didn't completely leave his face.

As the fighting continued, she lost sight of him but still knew he was nearby. Standing on the top of a low wall, a sudden noise to her left had her turning, raising her gun to fire. She was a little late, taking her attacker out, but still taking the force of the metal beam he had been swinging. The blow knocked her forward, the sharp pain from the contact quickly matched by the pain of meeting the debris strewn ground in front of her.

After a brief moment of blackness, she heard him calling her name, lightly shaking her shoulder. She could hear the worry in his voice as she struggled to lift her eyelids. In spite of his entreaties to not move, she pushed herself into a sitting position.

"I'm going to call for a medic," he told her.

"No," she told him. "They're already spread too thin. I'm fine."

"Sweetheart," he protested.

"I'm fine," she reassured him as she rose to her feet. She motioned for him to hand her the gun and he did so reluctantly.

"Are you sure?"

"We've still got a mess to clean up here," she told him, kissing him quickly before pushing him back towards the action. "I'm fine."

But she knew that she wasn't. As soon as he disappeared from view, she made her way over to a recessed doorway and sagged against the wall. She squeezed her eyes closed, fighting against the pain and accompanying nausea.

When it subsided somewhat, she stepped out, rejoining the battle until the pain threatened to overwhelm her once more. Again, she found a quiet spot to deal with it before pushing it away to once more deal with what needed to be dealt with.

Finally, the sounds of battle died away and she leaned against the wall, knowing he would come looking for her. Sure enough, it was only a few minutes before he came around a corner. When he caught sight of her, he broke into a run, carefully traversing the debris until he reached her side. He reached out a grimy hand to stroke her equally grimy face.

"I'm okay," she told him as she collapsed into his arms, doubling over with pain.

"Man down!" she heard him calling into the com as the blackness claimed her.

The next hours were a blur of noise and agony. Faces swam in and out of view. Some familiar, some not so. Machines beeped and shrieked and she fought down the urge to shriek with them. Her body felt like it was on fire it hurt in so many places.

He was by her side the whole time, holding her hand and kissing her forehead as he assured her that everything was going to be okay. That their friends were in the waiting room and were pulling for her. That he loved her.

She squeezed his hand, hoping he knew how much she loved him, too.

Bright lights.

Loud noises.

The pain, finally lessening.

Relief.

He smiled broadly, leaning down to kiss her again as the doctor assured them that everything was just fine.

After she had been moved into a private room, their teammates had filed in, all looking as tired and dirty as she felt. They quietly discussed the events of the day, all agreeing to being glad that it had come to an end. After expressing their relief that she was going to make a full recovery, they filed out, far past ready for their showers, meals, and beds.

He had walked them out, finally leaving her alone to contemplate the day's events.

'Well, not entirely alone,' she thought with a smile.

The door opened and he quietly entered the room, the smile on his face matching hers. As he crossed to her bed, he stopped at the small, wheeled bin sitting at the foot. He leaned over and gently scooped up the tiny, pink-wrapped bundle.

He walked to the bed, kicking off his shoes and carefully settling himself next to her as he eased the newborn into her arms. Wrapping his arm around his wife, he kissed her temple.

"We did good, Mommy."

She looked in amazement at the small face.

"Yes, we did, Daddy. Yes, we did."

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_In honor of my firstborn's birthday. Fortunately, not nearly this eventful, though. In the spirit of my Valentine's story, I've intentionally not used names. Readers can plug in whichever couple they want (as long as it's M/F, I suppose). I'd love to know what you thought. _


End file.
